One Vanilla Latte, and a Phone Number
by a-girl-with-a-writers-mind
Summary: One minute Bakugo's pining over a red hair stranger, and the next he's serving him.


_**Author's Note: i'm finally getting around to posting all my writing from tumblr on here :'))) if you want to read this on time, for once, my blog is a-girl-with-a-writers-mind. this piece was meant for the 2018 kiribaku week, if that gives any indication to how bad i am at posting things on here :') anyways! please leave a review, and enjoy!**_

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The soft chime of the door rings, and Bakugo nearly gives himself whiplash trying to see who's entered the shop. He peers over the little chalkboard on the counter stating today's specials, and searches for the head of crimson hair that first caught his eye that day two weeks ago. He still remembers that glinting smile and those laughing red eyes, and the painful feeling he got in his chest when his eyes met those of the stranger.

But none of those belong to the newcomer, a middle aged lady with normal brown hair and tired eyes, and certainly not the broad, muscular build the mystery customer had. Plus, she's got a set of annoyingly loud kids with her, too.

Bakugo suppresses a sigh, and tries not to let disappointment sink too deep. Really, he doesn't know what he's expecting; the red stranger showed up once two weeks ago, and never again since then. It had been his first visit and seemingly his last, just like the so many other one-time customers. Except this time, Bakugo finds that he cares.

He shoves his thoughts to the little locked up part of his brain, and forces his face into a fairly decent expression. "What can I get for you?"

"A black coffee, no sugar, no milk, with two espresso shots, please," she asks. One of the kids starts tugging a toy from the hands of his sister, and soon the little girl is roaring her rage to the world. The mother gives him the most tired, tragic look he's ever seen, and Bakugo honestly thinks she's close to tears. "Actually, make that three. And add a cookie, too- I need it."

Bakugo's lips twitch up at her request, and he rings up her order while her children wail at each other. He calls the order back to Mina, and waits with as much patience as he can muster for the lady to dig up the remaining change from her purse. He cashes in her money, hands her the drink Mina passes him, and gives her a warm cookie from the little metal rack on the counter. She thanks him and leaves, herding her screaming children out of the shop and stuffing the cookie into her mouth. On their way out, he hears her children beg her for the treat, and her tired, suffering sigh as he hands it over reluctantly.

And some people _want_ children.

Bakugo sighs and leans against the counter, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest- and, like the pathetic mope he is, his thoughts stray to the mysterious man.

Tall, built, and glistening with sweat, the stranger had taken Bakugo aback when he first stepped into the shop with his tight black tank top and running shorts. That, and the dark red hair he had tied back, with black roots and faded tips.

He had placed his order under the name Red Riot, to Bakugo's confusion; a vanilla latte with whip cream and melted caramel drizzled on top. That, and a white chocolate chip cookie. It's honestly kind of pathetic that he remembers the order, after two whole weeks of working long shifts and filling out hundreds like it.

He doesn't know why that red stranger caught his attention so powerfully, or why he can't get him out of his head. He hasn't told anyone either; Momo would try to give him a long speech about the history of love and probably ramble about some star-crossed dumbasses who got themselves killed cus of ~love~, Sero would be no help at all, Todoroki is about as sense about love as they come, Kaminari would tease him mercilessly, and God help him if Mina found out.

But he's not in love, anyways. He's just... mildly attracted, is all. The only reason he noticed those big muscles in the first place was because he could use a sparring partner, and the stranger looked like he might actually give Bakugo a work out- not that he'd ever tell him, even if he did meet him again. And he bets that that shitty red hair would be rough under his hands, and those sharp teeth would probably poke him if he tried to kiss him, and-

Bakugo's eyes snap open as he realizes his thoughts, and he sees Mina looking at him curiously. A flush creeps up the back on his neck, even though he knows there's no way she could tell what he was thinking. "You look tired; why don't you take back for a while?"

Bakugo releases a small breath, stupidly relieved by her train of thought. "Yeah, okay," he agrees, uncrossing his arms and pushing off the counter. "Thanks."

"No prob."

Mina knows he likes the back more, where he doesn't have to deal with the people. He's a dumbass for picking a coffee shop of all places to work, but hey, the pay's decent and he gets a free muffin every Monday. That, and Momo managed to pull her pouty face on him when he refused even thinking of applying for a spot at her favourite cafe. Bakugo prides himself on a lot of things, but being able to stand up to any one of the girls' pleading eyes isn't something he can do.

So, with a lot of grumbling and swearing and Momo's annoying bouncing, he applied, and managed to get the job, surprisingly enough. Mina got a job too, so at least there's someone tolerable working his shifts with him.

Bakugo works efficiently in the back, filling up orders for all sorts of things and for all sorts of people. An old couple came in and ordered the sweetest, sugariest drink he's made in awhile, a group of teenage girls all got the exact same thing, and the solemn business man that comes in everyday a four got his usual decaf. A couple of highschool boys came in just the flirt with Mina, but she told them to either order or beat it. Well, she didn't say it like that, but it was implied by hidden edge in her voice, so he ended up making some pretty good coffees that he has no doubt will end up in trash can before they're even partway finished.

Assholes.

The chime rings again, and Bakugo's wiping down his workspace when Mina comes up to him. There's a little secret smile on her face that makes him suspicious and honestly a little terrified. "Why don't you take this one?" She asks airily, hooking a thumb over her shoulder to the customer at the counter.

He squints at her suspiciously, but shrugs after a moment and turns to the counter. "Fine." He dries his hands on his apron and readies his fingers over the ordering tablet, prepared to wrap this up so he can finish cleaning and get off work. "How can-" He freezes when he sees who stands before him, the tied back crimson mane and that sharp smile, and those red, sparkling eyes. He feels his heart kick up, and the heat crawling up his neck. He blinks, and blinks once more, and finally breathes again. He clears his throat. "How can I help you?" His voice is strained, just the tiniest bit, but it's enough to make him want to ask the stranger to do him a favour and knock him out of his humiliation.

The red bastard's smile _widens_ , like he thinks Bakugo's little moment of un-amazingness was something funny. It's almost enough to bring him back to normal, but those blinding white teeth have got him imagining things he probably shouldn't. "A large vanilla latte, with whip cream and caramel drizzle, please." He's got Bakugo trapped with his eyes, the deep ruby depths drawing him in and not letting go.

Bakugo swallows and breaks his gaze, fixing his eyes on the tablet while he nods and inputs the order - the same order -, acutely aware of the stranger watching him. "Can I get a name for your order?" He asks, not looking at him.

"Kirishima. Kirishima Eijirou." The name rolls off his tongue with an easy confidence that, if he's being honestly, is so fucking attractive, and Bakugo has no idea why. The name fits, though, and he's glad to have one to pin to the Red Riot.

"Alright, then." He picks a cup and scrawls the stranger's name in black sharpie, checks off his choices, and hands it back to Mina with his order.

She's trying to hide a smirk, Bakugo realizes with despair- not for his pride, no, but for whatever the little vixen would do with this tidbit of information. Mina is horribly sneaky, and Bakugo doesn't need her nose sticking it in his business.

He turns back to the Kirishima Eijirou before him, and rings up his bill. "That'll be three ninety-five," he tells him, internally dying. Kirishima Eijirou sticks his hands in his Kirishima Eijirou pocket and pulls out a Kirishima Eijirou wallet, and hands him four Kirishima Eijirou dollars. Well, no, they're regular dollars, but that's not the point.

Bakugo slides open the cash register and puts the bills inside, and gets Kirishima Eijirou's change of a whole nickel. The little receipt machine spits out the stranger's receipt, and he hands it over with the change. Kirishima Eijirou plops the nickel in the tip jar and stuffs the slip in his pocket, and now it's just the two of them waiting for Mina to finish making his drink.

"You know, you don't strike me as the kind of person to work in a coffee shop."

The statement startles him, and Bakugo looks at him, brow furrowing. "Why?" Bakugo actually kinda likes his job. Kinda.

"Well, you're one wrong move away from ripping that shirt, so it's safe to say that you like action. A coffee shop isn't that exciting, if you know what I mean," Kirishima Eijirou replies nonchalantly, completely unaware of Bakugo's struggle to tamp down the sudden wave of heat rushing up to his face. The stranger shrugs. "But then again, I used to work at a bakery, so I can't judge."

"I... have no fuckin clue how to respond to that."

Kirishima Eijirou bursts into laughter, and Bakugo thinks he's going to die right then and there. His laugh is _gorgeous_ , all deep notes and raspiness and holy shit Bakugo thinks he might be in love after all.

Damn it.

"Do push ups off the counter and prove how action-y coffee shops are- at least, that's what I'd do," Kirishima says, grinning. Bakugo literally feels his heart miss a beat when he looks at him like that, eyes all sparkly and smiling in way that is giving him a mild heart attack. "But if you did, you'd probably burst every little seam in that shirt. But hey, the scene that'd cause will get some energy pumping up in here," he laughs, and Bakugo feels himself slowly turning redder by the second.

"Aye, and get myself in trouble, too," he counters, silently threatening his blood to get the fuck away from his face. "And Momo'd kill me if I got fired."

"Momo... Yaoyorozu?" Kirishima asks. "I know her- she used to stop buy the bakery ever Tuesday."

Bakugo nods, surprised. "Yeah, Momo's the reason I'm even working here in the first place," he explains.

"Did she pull the puppy dog eyes on you?" He asks, grinning.

Bakugo makes a face. "Yeah."

"Yeah, well, her look of disappointment is definitely worse," he says, scrunching his face in distaste of the memory, and honestly, Bakugo thinks he's gonna have to sign his heart up for therapy at the rate it's beating out of control. "So yeah- keep that shirt on."

"What?" Mina asks, coming up behind him with Kirishima's drink and damn near giving him a heart attack. She raises her eyebrow at him. "Bakugo, how many times do I have to tell you, you can't strip in here?" The little demon's smiling, her eyes bright with amusement, and Bakugo wants to fucking strangle her.

Kirishima grins, and Bakugo dies. "And here you were saying that you'd never," he jokes. "Hypocrite."

If it is even possible, Bakugo reddens further. "I do not!" He protests.

Mina laughs, and hands the fuming Bakugo the cup. "Sure, sure," she says, rolling her eyes. "Because you _totally_ didn't pull your entire shirt off the other day after your shift."

"I was _trying_ to take my apron off! It's not my fault the stupid shirt came off too!"

"You know, there's a tie on those things for a reason," Kirishima tells him lightly, laughing.

"Tch. The knot never comes undone fast enough," he grumbles.

"Yeah, yeah," Mina says, rolling her eyes. She hides her lips from Bakugo behind her hand, leaning towards the red haired un-stranger. "He just likes to show off his abs."

"I can hear you."

She props her elbow on his shoulder, and smiles up at him sweetly. "I know."

Bakugo sighs, and hand Kirishima his long-awaited drink. His fingers cover Bakugo's fingertips, just for a second, but it's enough to make his pulse skyrocket all over again.

Goddamn.

Kirishima grins. "Thanks." He glances down at his cup, and his smile widens. His eyes meet Bakugo's, and then he's warming up all over again.

"No prob," Mina tells him, smiling a too-bright smile. Then he's gone, turning away, and Bakugo can finally breathe again.

He goes to rub his face, and notices a black smudge on his finger. _Marker._ He frowns, and squints towards Kirishima's cup as he tips it up to sip it, wondering if any of the Sharpie got off on him. It shouldn't have, though; he wrote the order down ages ago.

His eyes widen.

"Mina, you _didn't._ "

"I did."

There's a number written on the cup. A phone number, and a certain barista's name.

"I'm going to fucking _murder_ you! He whisper shouts, glaring at her furiously as a blush works its way across his cheeks.

She winks. "You know you love me."

Bakugo gives her a look between utter horror and utter despair, but she keeps on smiling, like the proudest little monster that ever existed. He buries his face in his hands, and groans. "...I do."


End file.
